


Meeting in the Silence

by Alice (Red_Rosepetals)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Blind Character, Confusion, Crying, Dialogue Heavy, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, Global Retrograde Amnesia, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Lies, Lots of flowers, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Suicide, Minor Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Permanent Amnesia, Permanent Injury, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Some Fluff, Trauma, but its not a major character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-02-25 22:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13222650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Rosepetals/pseuds/Alice
Summary: Every day he brought me flowers. Every day he was the only person to visit me aside from the occasional nurse or doctor.***"Who were you to me?" The question slices through the gentle silence and the man's face softens with an unspeakable tension, his brows furrowing down over the bright of his eyes, his smile becoming strained as his lips pull taut at the corners and Izaya feels his heart sink."It's better that you don't know."





	1. Waking, Heart Shaking

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back (ish?) 
> 
> I promise I am working on my other stories, but I’ve been busy and I already had most of this story’s first chapter written so I finished that and here it is.
> 
> Inspired by two other fics with amnesiac characters (dif fandom tho)
> 
> Idk how many chapters this will have, but I’m think anywhere from two to six? It will be relatively short but will have at least one sequel so yeah
> 
> But here’s an update on my birthday, so yay
> 
> XOXO,  
> Alice

He woke up one day feeling light and airy, as if in a drug-induced haze, a smile pulling at his lips, eyes soft against the harsh of the light hitting them through the open window. The breeze whispered into the room, tickling at his skin, brushing his hair against his forehead and neck. Everything looked perfectly in place. Everything seemed fine, but...

A frown crossed his face as he heard the click of a door handle being turned and when his gaze flitted towards the door, he was met with the sight of a short, blonde woman donning a white lab coat and comically large spectacles along with a simple and plain outfit.

"You're awake, sir? How do you feel?" The woman's voice is distant, polite, and definitely unfamiliar, though maybe he knew her.

"I...I don't remember anything. Where am I? Who are you? Do I know you?"

As soon as the question spilled from his lips, before he even knew he was saying anything at all, there's a tension pulling at the woman's brows, even if the rest of her posture exuded nonchalance. As she talked, she shifted around the room, checking various equipments and making small notes on the piece of paper carefully clipped to the clipboard held tight in her hands.

"You're in a hospital, sir. You were in a bad accident and have been in a coma for several months. We figured you'd have amnesia, considering the amount of mental trauma we discovered. I guess we were right." The woman's voice is flat, as if she was discussing the weather and not the fact that he'd been in a terrible accident.

"What happened?" His voice betrayed his concern, but it was his expression that betrayed his curiosity.

"To be honest, we're not sure. Someone brought you here on their own but they also said they didn't know what happened. They probably just found you by chance and then, upon seeing your condition, brought you here." The woman stopped back by the door, gazing back at him as she lingered in the plain white room.

"I'm sure he'll come visit you." She said, and her expression conveyed something that he couldn't comprehend, before she turned heel and left, shutting the door carefully and quietly behind her, leaving him alone in the bore of the hospital room, trailing his gaze over the white curtains and walls and cabinets and machines.

He fidgeted his legs on the hospital bed, shaking away the stiffness he had noticed in them when the nurse? doctor? had been talking. She hadn't told him not to stay still, so there was little hesitation when he carefully lowered his feet to the ground, testing whether they would hold his weight steadfastly before rocking forth on the balls of his feet and setting his whole weight upon the tiled ground. He didn't move to leave the room, only slowly paced the floor to stretch out limbs worn from disuse back to some vitality.

He was just returning to sit on the hospital bed when the door creaked open, betraying the action to him, and his eyes snapped to the door much quicker than before. But it wasn't the woman from before, with her slick blonde hair and professional disposition. No, instead stood a tall, bleached-blonde man in a crisp bartender suit, with eyes surprisingly soft and warm, and in his hands was a bouquet of flowers and what was likely a small get well card neatly placed inside among the bright of colors arranged in the bouquet.

There was a certain softness to the man's features, maybe pity, maybe concern, and a whisper-soft sigh escaped the man's lips as he meet his gaze.

"You finally woke up, Izaya?" The man said, more as a statement than a question.

"Is...Is that my name?" He queried.

The man stepped further into the room, letting the door click shut behind him and setting the bouquet on one of the counters.

"Yes. Your name is Orihara Izaya," the man turned back to look at him. "I guess you don't remember, huh?" His voice is soft as he speaks, not aggressive but not without a certain edge to it he couldn't identify.

Izaya shook his head, carefully meeting the man's brown eyes in hopes that he might recognize the visiting man.

The man chuckled, startling Izaya slightly as he was so lost in his own thoughts even as he looked at the man.

"So you won't even talk to me? I guess I get it. Well, I hope you get better soon. It would be nice to see you around again." The man bowed, and then drew himself up, twisting on his heel to face towards the door.

"Wait, who are you?" Izaya asked, wanting to have a name to the face, even if he (no longer recognized?) didn't recognize the face.

The man turned back with a bittersweet smile gracing his lips.

"Ah, I'm Heiwajima Shizuo. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Orihara-kun." The man twisted back towards the door, hand bracing against the frame of the open door. Even as lost as he was, Izaya noticed the change in the way the man addressed him, suddenly becoming more formal and...distant.

Just as the man was about to step outside the room, Izaya spoke again:

"Are you the one who helped me?" He queried, confused by the flash in the dark of the man's eyes after he asked that and just the man's general disposition.

"Helped you," the chuckle that slipped past Heiwajima-san's lips sounded dry and hollow. "No, I just brought you here. I never thought that you'd- Never mind. Get better soon, Orihara-kun." And then he left, the door shutting behind him to block Izaya's view of the man.

His hands curled into the pale sheets, tightening on the feeling of emptiness and confusion he was wading through when he couldn't recall anything. Nothing at all, not his name, not where he lived nor what he did, not even how he looked because he had yet to see his own reflection.

The sigh pulled free from his lips before he could stop it and he turned his gaze towards the window, to peer out into that small sliver of the world that was visible through the sturdy frame of the plain window.

"Heiwajima Shizuo, huh."

***

He's not alone for long since the blonde nurse returns shortly after Shizuo leaves. He had just gotten up to look at the small card tucked in with the flowers when the door swung open slowly and the woman became visible.

She made one glance about the room, eyes landing on the bouquet as she nodded once.

"So he came?" She queried, shooing him away from the counter to pull out a vase (why was that in there?) and fill it with water at the tap.

"Heiwajima-san? Yes." Izaya answered watching the nurse carefully arrange the flowers after she placed them in the vase.

"They're quite beautiful," the nurse murmured before glancing at Izaya. "I'm Kamiko, by the way. Amano Kamiko. Just call me Kamiko, please, I'm not used to being called by my last name. I'm half, and I wasn't born in Japan either so it's weird for me."

"Oh, well then, nice to meet you Kamiko-san." He said, dipping his head politely as the woman stepped back from the counter to admire the flowers.

The woman's face tensed at his words, but she looked away as if to hide it.

"It's not our first meeting, but since it is our first formal one, I won't mind it. Not when you don't remember anything at all." Kamiko sounded distant and when she looked back at Izaya, her eyes were sad and dark.

"Do you know anything about me, Kamiko-san?"

"I don't, not really, but I know someone who does...You saw her a lot." Her expression shifted to pensive for a moment before softening gently.

"Was she...Were we...?" Izaya can't bring himself to ask such a question but Kamiko seems to understand.

She shakes her head once.

"No," she says. "No, it wasn't like that." She repeats.

"Then, who was she?"

Kamiko looks down at her hands, twisting them together uncomfortably. She looked Izaya right in the eye, face wrought with tension and pity, maybe.

"Your therapist, psychologist, psychiatrist...whatever you'd prefer to call it," Kamiko paused for a moment, observing Izaya's wide eyes. "She was trying to help you."

Izaya stared, jaw slack, as he fumbled to organize his thoughts.

"With what?" He asked, voice trembling slightly as he steadied himself with a hand on the counter.

Kamiko didn't answer right away, remaining silent.

"To be honest," she began quietly. "I'm not sure. I just saw the two of you when I went to visit my sister and a few others. I think, though, that you didn't go to get help per se, but rather you seemed to enjoy annoying her." Kamiko tapped her nails against the counter and then turned towards the door.

"I don't get it."

"Neither do I, neither do I, Orihara-san." And then she's making her soft-footed exit and Izaya doesn't say anything to stop her.

He can deal with being alone all the time, right?

Besides, surely there will be others coming to visit him, right?

Izaya doesn't know, and he doesn't know if he should hope either. Maybe he's not someone whom many people love or care enough about to visit.

He tried not to think about that.

***

When Heiwajima-san came back the next day, Izaya was more than surprised.

He'd asked the nurse from before, Amano Kamiko, for something to do while he was stuck in the hospital waiting to be discharged, and she had brought him severals books to read, from a myriad of genres. Probably because she couldn't ask his favorite if even he did not remember.

Which is why he'd been midway through one of the more fascinating books (it's incorporation and focus on the psychological aspect of things really capturing his attention) when the door rattled before easing open to reveal first a bright bouquet of flowers and second a bleached-blonde man.

"Heiwajima-san, here again? You made it sound like we wouldn't be seeing each other for a while." It's only confusion in his voice, no ill intent behind his words.

The blonde man smiled, arranging the new flowers into the vase with the other ones Kamiko-san had put into a vase for Izaya one of the times she had come in.

"Hmm," the man hummed. "Sounds like something you would say, Orihara-kun. I only meant that I wouldn't mind seeing you outside of a hospital after so long."

"...How long have I been here?" He asked, shifting his legs to the side of the  hospital bed and testing his weight on the ground before standing.

Heiwajima-san stilled his hands, stopped adjusting the flowers. He didn't look at Izaya.

"...Two years. It's been two years, Izaya."

Izaya didn't move, feet frozen to the ground as his gaze snapped over to Heiwajima-san in horror. He doesn't even notice how the man called him familiarly again.

"She said a couple months! Was it really two years? What happened!" He turned full towards the blonde, who had wandered over towards the window and was staring out it in silence, his tone becoming increasingly desperate and frustrated, demanding answers.

"I'm sorry. That's the truth. She was...told to lie about the time to make it easier to bear, though I doubt it even changed anything, especially now. If anything, it probably made it worse." The blonde seemed to know who he was talking about, and for a moment his brows pinch together but then his gaze trails down and out the window and his lips tug up into a fond smile.

"Do you know where we are, Orihara-kun?" He asked, voice lighter than before.

Izaya blinked, stepping towards the window as well to see what Heiwajima-san was looking at. In the small, green courtyard that could be seen from the window, there was a few small children playing, while several adults watched from where they were seated on the few, scattered park benches.

"No, I don't." He replied, and he doesn't realize that Shizuo is grabbing his hand and pulling him towards him, closer to the window until he's already by the blonde's side and has a full view of what could be seen from the hospital window.

Shizuo smiled carefully, moving his hand from holding Izaya's to brushing through the back of his hair. He doesn't even seem to notice he's doing it.

"We're in America, Izaya, the U.S of A," Heiwajima-san's expression is so gentle as he looks out the window that Izaya feels his heart softening, warming and he can't help but wonder who this man is, because he had come again after all, hadn't he? Didn't that mean they probably meant _something_ to each other?

With Shizuo standing so close, Izaya notices the way he smells bittersweet and familiar, the one constant in a dynamic world. He doesn't move away from Heiwajima-san's side, watching his expression rather than following his gaze to watch the glimpse of the world outside. Shizuo's touches are soft and gentle, so delicate Izaya would barely even notice if he weren't leveling all his attention towards him.

In the end, he leaves too soon and Izaya is left without company until Kamiko-san stops in and comments on how there are more flowers than yesterday. When she leaves, Izaya almost wishes she would stay longer because he always feels so alone, but the only person who has yet to remedy that was Heiwajima-san.

***

So far, Izaya had only met one other doctor. The doctor was a slim, average height woman with untamable black hair streaked with red and orangish amber eyes. She was less friendly than Kamiko, her eyes always narrowed to judgemental slits and her demeanor was cold like the frost of her voice. That was his impression of Shimizu Sayuri. He almost regretted wishing to see more people if they were going to be like Shimizu-san.

She was in the room now, pale hands gripped tight on her clipboard, amber eyes raking over Izaya as if to find some flaw or mishap and attack him (not literally, of course) for it.

"So, Orihara-san, you don't remember anything, is that correct?" Her voice is airy, if not accusatory as she speaks, eyelids dropping low over her eyes. But now she stared down at the paper before her instead of staring coldly at him.

Unable to find his voice, he just nods.

"I see," Shimizu-san notes something on the paper on her clipboard before continuing with her questions.  "How are you feeling? Any pain anywhere?"

"I've had a few headaches, but that's about it, I think."

"Dizziness?"

He shakes his head no.

"Shortness of breath? Rapid heart rate? Hyperventilation?"

Izaya shakes his head slowly and the doctor rolls her eyes.

"Hopefully, you'll be discharged soon then, Orihara-san." Shimizu-san said, clipped, jotting down some words with her pen before she leaves the room without another word.

***

Heiwajima-san visits everyday still, always within the same window of time. Never lingering for too long. Never staying long enough for Izaya to figure anything out.

Regardless, Shizuo doesn't talk about his past. But Izaya still wants to know. Wants to know why this man always visits him. Wants to know why this man always brings him a bouquet of flowers, even after filling three vases full of the bright blossoms.

At some point, Izaya can't wait anymore and with silence settling around them a short while after Heiwajima-san arrived, his lips are forming the words before his brain decides to even ask the question.

"Who were you to me?"

The question slices through the gentle silence and the man's face softens with an unspeakable tension, his brows furrowing down over the bright of his eyes, his smile becoming strained as his lips pull taut at the corners and he feels his heart sink.

"It's better that you don't know."

And then he's leaving and Izaya is sinking to the floor, sobbing because he doesn't know what's wrong and he can't fix a problem if he doesn't know what it is. He doesn't even comprehend it, only knowing that Heiwajima-san had put up an impassable wall and cut him off.

He doesn't notice when Kamiko enters the room, but he notices her when she's comforting him, rubbing his back gently and reassuring him.

He's not sure how long he cries, but when he looks up after he stops, Kamiko is blocking the door while Shimizu-san peers in over her shoulder, eyes not as harsh as usual, still holding their sharpness but something else is piercing through the cold of her gaze. Izaya once again wondered if she knows something. He wonders how much they know, how much he doesn't. And if he'll ever know.


	2. Staying, Heart Breaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I have updated anything in so long! I’ve been dabbling in writing for a different fandom, expirmenting with my writing, dealing with writer’s block and just a ton of school work -.-”
> 
> Also I lost some of this chapter’s progress and had to rewrite it which made this take longer...*sigh*
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter anyways!
> 
> XOXO,
> 
> Alice

Izaya doesn't know what to do. As Shimizu-san had said, he was supposed to be discharged in a couple more days after they did a few more checks on his condition, and although he can't wait to leave the small, plain room, only brightened by the somehow-still-alive flowers, he feels apprehensive, uncomfortable. Where will he go? Does he have anywhere to go?

"I didn't want to become a nurse." Kamiko says suddenly, breaking Izaya's train of thought and causing him to glance over at her.

It's just the two of them, the nurse sitting on the couch near the window and glancing out it intermittently and Izaya sitting on the hospital bed. Kamiko is more often than not the one to come check up on him, and he's almost grateful to her for it. Especially when the only other nurse or doctor or whatever the hell they were to walk through that door is Shimizu-san, and when she's around, he feels more isolated and alone than when he's the only one in the room.

"Oh, is that so." He murmured, knowing she was probably just trying to distract him from the fact that Shizuo hadn't come back in six days.

"I did it because of my sister. She's...," Kamiko paused, smiling tensely as she glanced over at her only audience. "Been blind for a few years now and she always wanted me to help other people aside from her, so I became a nurse."

"Do I...Did I know your sister?" He managed to ask, his reddish gaze meeting the blue one of the nurse.

Kamiko purses her lips, looking contemplative. Her eyes trail back over to the window, stopping to look down at the small park outside as a bitter smile touches her lips.

"I think it was more like you...knew of her? She also...," Kamiko trailed off for a second, eyes dimming and becoming distant. "Had been seeing someone for her...problems."

Izaya notes where she pauses, trying to glean whether or not she was lying. He has little luck when she's not looking over at him, too lost in her own thoughts. When someone knocks on the door, she flies to her feet so fast that Izaya barely blinks and she's at the door, creaking it open just a titch.

"What are you doing, Kamiko-san? Move aside." Even from where Izaya was on the hospital bed, he can hear the cutting and cold sting of Shimizu-san's voice. 

"What do you need, Sayuri? He doesn't need any visitors," Kamiko said tiredly. "Except one." She added, quieter.

"I'm here to announce when his discharge will be, right Namika?" Shimizu-san turned to someone behind her Izaya couldn't see since neither were actually in the room and Kamiko hadn't budged from the door.

"Yes," the other woman hissed, pressing forward and past Kamiko who merely stepped back from the door warily as it opened all the way and the two entered. "Orihara-san?" She called, fixing her gaze on Izaya.

Izaya looked closely at the newcomer, Namika. She was taller than both Kamiko and Shimizu-san, with a mess of unruly brown curls and sharp, intelligent blue eyes. She seemed much kinder than her companion at the least.

She smiled at him politely, extending a clipboard out to him, presumably with the documentation about his upcoming release from the hospital. He stood up, walking over to her, and he took it with a slight tremble to his hands and he doesn't look up when he asks one of the questions burning at the back of his throat.

"When is my discharge?" He asked, voice low and hoarse.

Namika exchanged a meaningful glance with Shimizu-san.

"Tomorrow afternoon." It's Shimizu-san who replies.

"Is there someone who is picking me up?" He asked, eyes fixed on the papers before him as he signed them shakily.

The silence that follows tells him all he needs to know.

He doesn't have anyone.

He shoved the clipboard back at Namika, abruptly turning back towards the hospital bed to hide the liquid stinging at his eyes and trailing down his face.

He heard the door open and close with a quiet creak and a soft thud as he curled up on the hospital bed, receding into himself.

***

Izaya was allowed to leave the hospital room after being there for a while, so it was one of the times he wasn't in the room, making Sayuri and Kamiko the only two in the room. Shimizu-san was picking up some broken glass pieces of one of the vases and Kamiko was organizing one of the cabinets. The vase had been broken yesterday, and although neither the nurse or the doctor had witnessed how it happened, they both had their suspicions.

"Shit." Sayuri suddenly cursed, causing Kamiko to turn towards her.

"What happened?" She asked, not originally noticing anything wrong.

"I cut myself." Sayuri muttered, pinching at the cut on her finger and watching the blood ooze out.

Kamiko rushed over to help, hands reaching out to observe the wound. Sayuri glared at Kamiko fiercely, smacking away the hands of the concerned blonde nurse.

"Fuck off," she spat, eyes dark. "How long are you going to keep taking his side?"

Kamiko frowned, dropping her hands down to her sides.

"I'm a _nurse_ , Sayuri, it's my job to help him. To help anybody. Why are you so against him being here? If you didn't like him, why the fuck would you come out here to the U.S?" Kamiko replied sharply, crossing her arms as she glared at the doctor.

"You're only taking his side because you don't what he did, what he's done," Sayuri hissed, anger glowing in her eyes. "I came here to make sure he doesn't fuck up again," and then she added, almost as an afterthought, "and to keep an eye on Miyuki's sister."

"What on earth did he do that's so bad? After everything you've done?" Kamiko shot back, not backing down.

Sayuri's eyes darkened and she slapped Kamiko, hard.

"Miyuki died because of him, and I'm sure there are others, and he cheated on his boyfriend!" She shrieked, breaths coming out in ragged pants, but she instantly retracted her hand, eyes softening as her rage subsided.

Kamiko held her cheek, still feeling the harsh sting of the other's hand throbbing against her own hand.

"Look, I'm so sorry, Kami-" she stopped abruptly when the door opened.

They both turned towards Izaya, who stared at them quizzically, sensing the rapidly dissipating tension.

"I'm sorry about your friend, but you shouldn't take your anger out on people who have nothing to do with her death." Kamiko muttered, making a meaningful glance at Izaya before her eyes rested on Sayuri again for a second. She left the room without another word.

Sayuri exhaled slowly, turning to fully face Izaya.

"O-Orihara-san, I'm gravely sorry for acting so cold towards you, I've been a little emotionally sensitive and I hope that you'll forgive my poor manners." She bowed slightly, lowering her head as shame tingled the back of her neck.

Izaya stared, hand resting against the doorframe as he saw the cold woman transform into something human. He was certain he knew something had been up, but being so blatantly faced with her complete 180 in her behavior still felt like a slap to the face. He crept around her towards the hospital bed, still keeping his distance from Shimizu-san.

"Did...Did I do something?" He managed to ask, his heart sinking when Sayuri stiffened as she straightened back up.

"Orihara-san, that's not-" she tried, but he didn't let her finish, feeling a indescribable burning sensation in his chest. He slowly collapsed down into the hospital bed, starting to piece things together.

"Is that why he left? Why Heiwajima-san left?" He asked, searching Shimizu-san's face for answers.

"I-I," Sayuri stuttered, unusually flustered. "I don't know anything about that." She said, making her way towards the door and avoiding looking at his face.

She was only a step or two from the door when the handle turned from the other side, causing her to stop moving towards the door, and the door opened to reveal Heiwajima-san himself.

Izaya felt a weird feeling in his chest as different emotions overwhelmed him, and there was a bitter taste left in his mouth. He was still undeniably confused and lost.

_Why had Shizuo come back?_

He couldn't even tell how he felt about the blonde man coming back.

Shizuo looked first to Sayuri, dipping his head respectfully before he spoke.

"I heard he was being discharged tomorrow?" He asked softly, stepping into the room and gently shutting the door behind him. In his left hand, there was a single flower.

Izaya looked away from it, pretending he didn't see it and instead looked towards the doctor, who was tucking her hands into the pockets of her white lab coat she was wearing.

"Yes," She said carefully, eyes trailing from Shizuo to Izaya. "Was there something you wanted? I thought you weren't coming back."

Shizuo didn't respond right away, wandering over to the now undecorated counter, pulling out a new vase from a cabinet, and setting the single flower he had in it.

"I just needed some time, I thought I was ready for everything, but...," he turned back to the doctor, shaking his head slightly. "As you surely saw, it turned out I wasn't quite able to handle it."

Sayuri huffed and crossed her arms.

"You shouldn't be saying that to me." She said, inclining her head towards Izaya, who hadn't said a word the whole time and had only watched the exchange take place.

Shizuo chuckled lightly, moving away from the counter and closer to the hospital bed, but he stopped after only a few steps and left plenty of space between him and Izaya.

"Yes, I suppose so." He agreed, nodding once at Sayuri, who took the hint and left the room, though somewhat begrudgingly it seemed, at least to Izaya.

The blonde man looked over at Izaya, who looked at him blandly.

"You came back." The words sounded hollow and bitter.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did," he said, looking back at the flower in the vase and fiddling with it. "Look, Izaya, I-"

"I don't care," Izaya interrupted calmly, eyes still blank and face emotionless as he gazed over at Heiwajima-san, who only occasionally met his eyes. "The past is the past, we can always create new memories with each other."

"Izaya...you don't understand," Shizuo insisted, shaking his head lightly in frustration. "You're not the problem...I am." He turned towards Izaya finally, leaving the poor flower alone.

Izaya furrowed his brows, standing almost too quickly but he caught himself in time when he stumbled and almost fell.

"What do you mean?" He demanded.

"This," he gestured around the room vaguely. " _This_ is all my fault, the reason you're here in the first place is because of me."

"What's so bad about bringing me to a hospital? Doesn't that mean you helped me?"

Shizuo sighed, running a hand through his hair and he looked conflicted and stressed out.

"That's not what I meant," he said tentatively, avoiding looking at the smaller man. "I...I was the one who hurt you."

Izaya froze, feeling his blood go cold.

"I-I don't understand," he stuttered. "Then why would you bring me here?" He backed away from Heiwajima-san slowly.

"Izaya-" Shizuo tried, but stopped when Izaya just shook his head several times, a pained expression on his face.

"I guess I misunderstood," Izaya breathed out. "I...I thought that we...I thought that...that I...Please, leave...I-I need some time-" It was hard for him to speak, his chest was tight and his throat was constricting as his eyes began to sting.

He didn't understand. And Shizuo didn't try to explain, only looking sadly at him one last time before he left.

Izaya wished he knew what was going on.

***

"Kimiko, stop! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Japan with Kumiko?" Kamiko speed-walked after her younger sister, half-worried about her running into something or someone, half-horrified Kimiko was in America because it meant Kumiko was alone. That wasn't a good idea, but neither was it a good idea for Kimiko to come here on her own.

The blind woman disregarded her sister's words, forging onward, one hand trailing against the wall as a guide. She turned sharply, and before she knew it, she was pushing open the door to a hospital room, hand tensing on the cold metal of the handle, pushing down and out and following the swing of the door with her body. She held onto the door handle, keeping the door open and sensed someone approach her from behind, pulling her away from the door so that it ended up clicking shut behind her.

"Goddamnit, Kimiko. Don't scare me like that." Kamiko hissed, holding her sister close to her chest from behind and placing her head into the soft, messy curls of her younger sister's hair.

"Sorry," the younger whispered out as an apology, tracing a finger gently over one of Kamiko's hands that was draped over her shoulders and dipped down over her collarbone. "I just wanted to talk to Izaya."

That seemed to snap Kamiko to her senses, drawing her gaze to the room she and her sister had entered and suddenly meeting the gaze of a teary, red-eyed Izaya. She didn't even question how her sister knew where Izaya's room was or how she managed to navigate her way there, too shocked by the sight before her. Her mouth felt dry and she looked down for a moment to collect herself.

"What happened?" She managed to ask, eyes catching Izaya's again when she looked over at him once more. Kimiko tensed in her older sister's arms, wondering what there was that she couldn't see. The older unconsciously tightened her grip around her sister's shoulder reassuringly, protectively upon noticing the other's discomfort.

"I should be asking you that, I think." The man shot back tiredly, his voice dry but lacking any real sting to it. If anything, his voice was laced with a resigned bitterness.

Kamiko swallowed, feeling a nervous tension taut in her veins and she unhooked her arms from her sister's shoulders, instead wrapping them around Kimiko's waist carefully, keeping the younger close to her but not holding her too tight to the point where she couldn't move. She felt uncomfortable with Kimiko there, feeling vulnerable and exposed because she had a soft spot for her both of her sisters.

"What do you mean?" She finally asked, trying to keep the uncertain tremble out of her voice.

"Something happened between me and Shizuo before, no? I'm asking what happened." Izaya answered cooly, drying his eyes with the pads of his cold fingers. He'd calmed down now and felt in control of the situation, even with the other person there- Kamiko's younger sister, he presumed, because she looked like a smaller, more vulnerable version of Kamiko.

"I don't kno-" Kamiko started to reply, but Izaya cut in quickly.

"Don't be like Shimizu-san and lie to me, don't you think I deserve to know?" Izaya demanded, voice cold.

"Now's not the time to be focusing on that, 'Zaya," Kimiko piped up, slipping out of her older sister's grasp. "Shouldn't you be worrying about what will happen after you're discharged 'morrow?"

Izaya gaze snapped to the younger of the blonde sister's, eyes narrowing.

"What?" He inquired acidly.

"You don't have a place to go, right? And you can't stay at the hospital, so," Kimiko pauses, waving her hand vaguely towards the window. "You should be thinking about where you'll go, right?"

Izaya opened his mouth to reply, but the door opened again and the newcomer spoke before he could.

"He'll be going with Heiwajima-san, though not right away. Before that, he'll be staying at a hotel. I just had it all arranged," everyone turned to see Sayuri standing by the doorway, arms crossed. Only Kamiko looked unsurprised. Sayuri glanced over at her coworker. "I also called Jiah, Kamiko. She said Lori will be catching a flight within the week, whenever her boss is flying out here."

Kamiko raised a brow. Her sister just seemed excited, bouncing on the balls of her feet with a smile on her face. Izaya was stiff, letting Sayuri's words sink in. He listened to their exchange quietly, still having every intention of demanding answers from Sayuri, Kamiko, or even Kimiko. Whoever would actually tell him what he wanted to know.

"Shiori is coming to America? I thought she only went to the U.K?" Kamiko pursed her lips, seemingly trying not to frown.

Sayuri shrugged.

"I don't pay attention to those sort of details. I'm just glad Lori can catch a break and come here on such short notice." She said calmly, looking towards the cabinets in consideration.

The silence that fell following her words was fleeting at best.

“Will one of you tell me what the hell happened?” Izaya finally asked, patience wearing thin.

Kamiko and Sayuri both seemed to consider his words, gazes calculating.

Kimiko twirled around on her feet, giggling.

“Bad things~,” the youngest sang out, dancing in place gracefully, somehow managing not to knock anything over considering how close she was to the new flower vase. “Lots of bad things, right, Kami-nee?”

Kamiko sighed, grabbing her sister by the wrist and pulling Kimiko towards her, stopping the woman’s movements.

“Kimiko, can you please leave? I’ll go to my apartment later, so can you go hang out there for now?” She asked tiredly, placing something in her sister’s hand.

Kimiko seemed to deflate, tucking whatever her sister had given her into her coat pocket.

“Fine, but if you’re not back in two hours, I’m going to leave your apartment.” The younger agreed, tone all but threatening.

When Kimiko had left, Sayuri and Kamiko exchanged glances, before Sayuri sighed and nodded at the blonde woman.

“About Heiwajima-san...,” Sayuri began, looking anywhere but at Izaya. “I suppose there is one thing we should tell you...”


	3. Leaving, Heart Weeping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One, I'm so sorry for not updating this since February! I still can't believe time went by so fast -.-"
> 
> Two, I know the character names can get confusing so here's a refresher/guide:
> 
> Amano, Kamiko- Izaya's nurse. She's only half-Japanese, and wasn't born there either. She has two sisters, and is the middle child. She has a soft spot for her sisters, and often acts motherly unintentionally. Though she sometimes has a rough exterior, she's a totally softie towards people she likes (not the romantic like). 
> 
> Shizimu, Sayuri- Izaya's doctor. She acts really cold towards him at first, and seems to hold some things from his past against him. She eventually apologizes to him, and acts a little nicer, but still is distant and less friendly than Kamiko. She also seems to have a bad relationship with Kamiko.
> 
> Ikeda, Namika- Another nurse or doctor that brings Izaya his release papers. She seems close with Sayuri because they are longtime friends, but she is nicer to Izaya because she seems indifferent about him. She came to America with Izaya because of Sayuri. 
> 
> Lorina- Izaya's apparent therapist/psychologist from Japan. She works for Shiori. More will be learned about her later in the story when she will play a bigger role. 
> 
> Amano, Kimiko- Kamiko's younger sister. She's blind and also has been seeing a therapist for unknown reasons. She only plays a minor role in the story. 
> 
> Shiori- Lorina's boss. She flies from London to Japan frequently for business reasons. She isn't really important. 
> 
> Shimizu, Miyuki- Sayuri's cousin. According to Sayuri, she died because of Izaya. She'll be more important later, possibly.
> 
> Shimizu, ????- Miyuki's sister and Sayuri's cousin. Sayuri claims she came to America with Kamiko and Namika in order to keep an eye on her. She is only ever going to mentioned, so she only plays a minor role.

"Before we tell you anything, you have to understand that we only know vague details. We didn't witnessed what happened personally and there's only so much we had learned about the incident before we ended up moving you to this hospital, out in the U.S." Kamiko spoke after Sayuri, exchanging a glance with the doctor. Izaya frowned at their words, latching onto the last part more than anything. It reminded him of something Shizuo had said before, before he had said that it was his fault Izaya was in a hospital in the first place. He rolled their words over in his mind, but rather than acknowledge Kamiko's warning:

"Why did we come out here in the first place?" He asked, shifting his gaze first from Kamiko to Sayuri, and then back again. However, it was Sayuri who spoke and not Kamiko.

"Heiwajima-san had said it was best that we get far away from Japan, well, to get you away from Japan, for whatever reason, that we only have guesses at, but what mattered is that we did end up transferring you. Namika, Kamiko, and I are the only ones who came with from Japan. We assured the others that we would be enough to take care of everything, as we couldn't have too many of us suddenly coming to America. Our guess is that you likely had enemies who would take advantage of your hospitalization to-" she cut herself off, chuckling dryly and without humor. "In all likelihood," she continues as though she hadn't paused at all. "To kill you."

The words hung heavy in the air, tension thickening at the darker turn in the conversation. Kamiko frowned at Sayuri, opening her mouth clearly to protest, but then she closed it, saying nothing. Her discontent was painted all over her face, regardless. She made no attempt to deny the doctor's words, and Izaya felt something cold grip at his shoulders, sending a heavy shiver down his spine.

"Why?" Was all he managed to croak out, still lost in a web of confusion.

Kamiko's gaze darkened as she looked over at the doctor, and Sayuri waved a hand at her dismissively. Kamiko huffed a breath, turning her attention to Izaya, who was still waiting for an answer, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach at the tension snaking through the room and weighing thickly in the air.

She smiled thinly, voice dead serious as she stated, "Everyone has enemies, Orihara-san."

"But enemies that actually seek to kill them? I don't think everyone has those." He retorted, instinctively knowing there was more that she wasn't telling him.

"You were just a bit infamous back in Japan, that's all." Sayuri added helpfully, tossing her black hair over her shoulder. Izaya shifted his gaze to her, willing to focus on anyone who could give him answers. Even though, for all he knew, they could be lying through their teeth with practiced smiles.

"Infamous for what?" He pressed, needing answers, needing information to fill the blank space of his memory.

" _Izaya_." Kamiko's tone was harsh, almost warning, yet she also just sounded concerned. Sayuri narrowed her eyes at the nurse, before looking back over at Izaya with a calm smile. "You had a bit of a reputation, Orihara-san. That reputation," Sayuri sighed, shrugging pitifully. "Was quite awful, to be blunt."

"Sayuri!" Kamiko protested, but the doctor just gave her another cold look. These two seemed to not get along in the least, and Izaya had to wonder how long they had been coworkers, and how long their feud had been going on for. 

"He deserves to know these things, Kamiko. What are you trying to protect him from?" She paused, considering, before a smirk crossed her face and she looked at the nurse knowingly. "You  _know_ something, don't you?" She purred, and Kamiko seemed to grow paler.

"Of course not! But-" The blonde nurse seemed to lose her words partway through her sentence, and her voice died in her throat, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I don't know anything, but I just have tried piecing together the situation based on all that we already know. It's Heiwajima-san that knows the answers to these questions."

"Yes, and you'll get the chance to ask him soon enough and find out for yourself." Sayuri agreed, almost seeming smug.

Izaya studied the two of them, but then Sayuri continued talking, elaborating on how he was—  _had been?—_ strongly disliked by a high percentage of people who knew his name.

***

Izaya was silent when Sayuri and Kamiko finished telling him about what they know. They didn't know the specifics of the incident that landed him in the hospital, but they were able to provide some details based on what Kamiko learned from his psychologist, a woman named Lorina (or as everyone referred to her- "Lori"), and what Sayuri knew through people who she was close with that had interacted with him- namely someone by the name of Miyuki.

The information still doesn't make sense. For some reason, it just doesn't compute, it doesn't explain anything. It's too much in that it's too little. It's too vague to be specific, but too specific in that he can't quite doubt whether it's true or false.

"Things must have escalated out of hand." Kamiko had said vaguely, staring off into nowhere in reflection. During their whole "explanation", she had returned to a more clinical and professional demeanor, seeming more serious than normal. The same as when she first appeared before Izaya, distant and unaffected.

"I don't think it was necessarily Heiwajima-san's fault, he's probably just blaming himself because you got hurt." Sayuri had said at one point, the last thing she had added before she left the room. She had seemed much less enthusiastic about talking about everything with him. He still wasn't quite sure why. But then again, she was much harder to figure out than Kamiko.

Kamiko had lingered in the room for much longer, more willing and open to talk, but everything she had to offer didn't seem to help Izaya in the slightest. Just shy of two hours later, Kamiko finally headed out, bowing and apologizing, to which he had dismissed her flippantly and, upon her exit, tried to piece things together from what he now knew.

According to Kamiko, despite her belief that he went to his appointments to annoy Lorina, Izaya had also gone because there was "some sort of problem" with his relationship with Heiwajima-san. He had tried to get something more specific and concrete out of Kamiko, but she again said that she genuinely didn't know. It was frustrating, getting such small, unhelpful snippets of information because they weren't helping him to piece together his past, a past he no longer remembered. Just as he is puzzling over everything, the door flew open again and when his gaze snapped over, he saw Kamiko standing there, looking a little sheepish as she fishes around in her pocket, before taking out a small, white piece of paper. It looks like a business card, or at least, the size is about right for it to be.

"I forgot to give this to you. I didn't look at it, I promise." As Kamiko spoke, she held out the paper for him, still looking sheepish. Izaya was slow to get to his feet, not sure what could be on that paper, or if it had anything to do with Heiwajima-san. He took the paper from Kamiko's outstretched hand and stared down at the small slip of paper with no expectations in mind.

_'I'm sorry, I guess we still have a habit of taking things too far. But I still feel the same way about you. Get well soon._

_Shizuo'._

It had to be the card from the first bouquet that Shizuo brought when he first woke up, but he didn't fully comprehend what it meant. He crumpled it up in frustration, clenching his hand around it but holding onto it. If he really was going to be seeing the man again soon, he might as well keep it so he could have something to base his questions on if Heiwajima-san became evasive. He glanced up to find Kamiko watching him, and it seemed to fluster her.

"Ah, sorry, it's just that—" she smiled tightly. "I also wanted to tell you that Namika, the nurse who brought the documentation of your discharge, will be dropping you off at the hotel tomorrow. Right now, it's arranged that you'll be staying there for two nights and three days. Sayuri," Kamiko sighed at this point. "Sayuri and I both agree it would be best for you to see Lori at least once before you...stay with Heiwajima-san."

Izaya stared at her darkly, setting the paper down on a table beside the hospital bed.

"I see," was all he answered, and Kamiko merely bowed and left, having accomplished all that she had set out to do.

For the rest of the day, he was alone.

***

The next day came too quickly, but not soon enough. As Kamiko had told him, Ikeda Namika came to pick him up. She didn't seem to pay him much heed. As soon as he had gathered his few possessions, including a few flowers that still had their vitality, she ushered him out the door and into an elevator. They reached the ground floor, and Namika led him to a sleek black SUV, one that looked too pristine and well kept to seem shady. She opened the passenger door for him, momentarily confusing him because in his mind it should be the driver's seat. She waited patiently for him to realize that the steering wheel was indeed on the left side, and once this understanding was come to, Izaya climbed into the car, feeling extremely out of it. He had been cooped up in the hospital since he woke up, and had only been allowed to walk around the hospital grounds after a few days. But he definitely appreciated the fresh air, and the weather was nice, a gentle breeze keeping the air cool, but not cold.

Based on that, he figured it was probably sometime in March, the warmer weather seeming to hint at the arrival of spring. The drive was void of conversation, the radio prattling some English talkshow in the background that he didn't really understand. Namika seemed focused, and he vaguely mused that it was quite possible she could understand English much better than he did. Regardless, the drive was fairly short, and before he knew it, Namika had parked in front of the hotel to drop him off, not bothering to offer her help in carrying his things because not only was it unnecessary, but Izaya honestly didn't have that much with him. He thought that if anywhere, his possessions were with Heiwajima-san, considering they supposedly came here together.

He was still quite baffled by the situation, or rather, what he'd been told about it. It was Heiwajima's fault he was hospitalized, he himself might not be innocent and he was seeing a therapist for something, Heiwajima still seemed to like him, though in what way Izaya could only hazard guesses. The information all seemed to lead to the same place: how did he feel about Shizuo and why was he seeing a therapist?

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, a light headache causing him to lose concentration. His grip tightened around his bag, and he turned his focus to checking into the hotel on his own. He was unsurprised that Namika would just abandon him to it on his own, but he still thought it was irresponsible. Not only was he in a foreign country whose language he hadn't necessarily mastered, but he had also lost his memories which severely handicapped his ability to comprehend the world around him. It all felt alien, new. Sure, some things he knew instinctively and he could do certain activities without consciously thinking about it, but the rest was novel, revolutionary even. Like the driver's seat being on the opposite side in America.

He wasn't sure if he was going to heed Kamiko's suggestion to see Lorina, his old therapist, but mainly because he wasn't sure if it was going to help him at all. He was certain that the woman would know more about what happened than Kamiko and Sayuri, who had both been nothing short of strangers, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. He'd already been indescribably hurt when Shizuo had pushed him away, and when he had said it was his fault that Izaya had needed to be hospitalized. He was curious, of course, but he was also afraid. Afraid of what he would find out, both about himself and about Shizuo, too. Sayuri had had no qualms informing him that he was—  _had been?_ \- a horrible person in the past with a reputation that proceeded him. But he wasn't sure if he should let that fear control him, and dictate his actions. 

He wanted to believe in Shizuo's promise— that he still felt the same way about him even after all that had happened, whatever it was. He wanted to believe in the good in Shizuo, but a part of him was holding back from freely throwing himself (back) into Shizuo's arms. It was a stigma, a hazy feeling he got whenever the atmosphere shifted with tension at something they said. It caused alarm bells to ring in his head, caused him to sweat, caused him to be on edge. So maybe he would just have a casual talk with the therapist if his nurse really wanted him to, maybe he could just figure out what his relationship had been like with her, and why he had been seeing her in the first place. Anything that didn't lead to him learning things he'd rather not know. 

He was still caught up in his thoughts as he wandered to the elevator, pushing the button for the fifth floor and leaning back against the side of the elevator. He closed his eyes, still feeling a little faint and overwhelmed. It was his first time out in the 'real world' after a while, after all. Shizuo had told him he'd been at the hospital for two years, presumably in a coma, he thought. And then after that, he'd still remained there a while longer so that they could monitor his condition to make sure he was fulling up to speed, at least physically. Izaya couldn't really say that his emotional and mental state was in tip-top shape when he felt so lost and conflicted. He barely heard the elevator ding, so he was a little startled when the doors slid open and without really thinking, he rushed out of the elevator, still clutching his bag in a tight grip. 

He walked past room after room, reading off the room numbers in his head before stopping in front of his own. It took him a little bit of time and quite a bit of guesswork before he finally figured out how the key-card was supposed to work and got the door open. The room that was revealed behind the now open door was on the small side, but still spacey and almost homely. There was a mini closet to his right with a mirror sliding door, a little further in was a small kitchen area with a coffee maker, a sink, a microwave and a mini-fridge. To his left was what he assumed was a bathroom, but the door was closed so he wasn't fully certain. The one bed in the room was fairly big, though he didn't know what size it was, and was neatly made with plain white sheets. One the opposite wall of the bed, there was a small little desk with a lamp resting upon it and a black office chair placed next to it. 

Izaya was a little impressed by the room, but at this point, he would think anything was better than that boring hospital room, which is why he was a little annoyed by the bed's white sheets. At least the air didn't smell sterile. Though, it felt weird being on his own again, even knowing he was still near other people because he wouldn't be the only one staying at the hotel (especially considering how nice it was. If he ever saw Sayuri again, he would have to, albeit begrudgingly because of her insisting that he would stay with Shizuo afterwards, thank her). He dropped his bag to the ground, suddenly feeling exhausted, and he launched himself on the bed, stretching out his limbs as he laid on the cool fabric. He'd have more time to think about the matter of Shizuo, his past, and his old therapist during the rest of his stay at the hotel, so for now, he decided to not think about it, letting himself drift off into a dreamless sleep.  

**Author's Note:**

> Also I had to rewrite part of the end since I lost the progress so I’m sorry if it’s crap. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed regardless!
> 
> XOXO,  
> Alice


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